Home  |  Hot Books!  |  Sign in  |        



Like it?
Share it!







More...
from Mama needs new shoes by Shirley Holder Platt

Copyright © 2019 Shirley Holder Platt

Chapter 11

Doofus really was a good boy. He was still sitting in the back seat where we’d left him. He had his head down playing Candy Crush. I knocked on the window next to him and ducked out of sight. I crab walked around to the other side of the car and knocked on that window. I could hear him moving around. I could do this all day, but Miu Miu was sure to get help soon, so I knocked on the back window for grins then the driver’s side back window. Doofus opened the door and stuck his left leg out. I stepped up and stomped his foot with as much force as I could muster.

"Ouch. That hurt," he said. While he was looking down, I grabbed for his gun. It was holstered and hanging on his side. As I flipped his jacket aside, he slapped at my hand, but I was fast and had removed the gun before he could stop me.

"Hey, give me that back."

"I don't think so. I've got a better idea. You lay face down on the concrete, and while you're at it, shut your mouth."

"It's hot and someone spilt their drink. I don't want to get it on my suit."

"Stop whining."

He laid down when I rammed the gun between his back ribs.

“Where’s Katalina?” he asked. He was out of breath from the little bit of activity I'd forced on him. I didn't feel sorry for him at all.

“She got held up. She’ll be out to get you before you can say, “Damn that woman made me take my pants off.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Sure, I would. Now do it.”

“No.”

I kicked his butt.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You sound like a broken record. Now take off your pants like a good boy and hand them over.”

“I can’t while I’m face down.”

“Roll over. If you’re really good, I’ll give you a doggy biscuit.” I checked the parking lot for activity, but everyone was inside. Doofus rolled over and tried to give me the evil eye, but it really just looked like a snarling dog to me.

“Ruff, ruff,” I said. “Speed it up. I can’t wait to see if you’re a boxer or brief man.” That brought a snarl. I shook the gun at him until he sat up, took his shoes off, and started unzipping. It was unpleasant to watch him wiggle out of his pants. And thank god he was a boxer guy. Hanes classics in a...






Shirley Holder Platt is accepting feedback on this chapter.

Would you like to be a part of it?

Sign in or join to offer your feedback and constructive criticism.

FAQ: I don't feel "qualified" to give feedback. Can I still provide it?





Read books      FAQ      Contact me      Terms of Use      Privacy Policy

© 2019 Dream, Play, Write! All rights reserved.